More Than This
by rachelcolleen1000
Summary: Katniss Everdeen and Gale Hawthorne made a mistake, which left them with a daughter, Laurel. Two and a half years later, Gale's married with an unborn child on the way and Katniss is still single. But one merchant boy wants to change that. Can Peeta Mellark, town baker, show Katniss that he can love and provide for her and her daughter more than anyone? AU and OOC
1. Chapter 1

**Welcome to my brand new story! I've been thinking about starting this for awhile now and its way different from what I normally write…so, yeah. I think you'll like it, though. It's modern day, so obviously it's AU, and definitely OOC. **

** Enjoy and tell me what you think! :)**

My name is Katniss Everdeen. I'm twenty years old. And three years ago, on my seventeenth birthday, I made the biggest mistake of my life. An irreversible, unchangeable, unalterable mistake. And yet, it's the most beautiful mistake I've ever made. I'd never change what I did (although I would definitely change who I did it with) because of what the result was. And now you're probably thinking: what did you do?

Well, on my seventeenth birthday, May 8th, I slept with my (ex) best friend and (ex) hunting partner, Gale Hawthorne. And exactly nine months later, on February 8th, I gave birth to my daughter, Laurel.

And now you're probably thinking I'm some slut who sleeps with everyone in District 12. But I'm not. I honestly can't tell you what drove me to sleep with Gale. We were in the woods and he'd wished me a happy birthday and he'd given me my present (cheese buns from the bakery, my favorite) and it just sort of . . . happened. It started with a kiss. And it ended with me, sitting all alone in the woods, naked, crying as he ran off, totally and completely humiliated. And don't blame Gale for what happened – it was completely consensual. The difference between Gale and me, though, is that Gale loved me. I was just curious.

You can imagine how I felt when I found out I was pregnant. I told my sister, Prim, who was fourteen at the time, first. She was understandably disappointed in me, but she helped me tell my mother. It wasn't until I was four months along that I told Gale. And it didn't go over well. Something about him asking me to marry him and me saying no. We decided that the child would be with me Monday through Friday and she'd be with Gale on the weekends. We would've worked out a fairer agreement (like a week here, a week there) but Gale works in the mines for fourteen hours a day during the bisuness week. It would be easier for me to look after the baby.

A teen pregnancy in District 12 isn't rare – in fact, most girls have a child before they're twenty. The average age of death in District 12 isn't exactly high, so we get started early. I was on the younger side, but the first girl in our grade to have a child was fifteen. I'm sure I was judged, but not as much as I would've been if I'd lived in one of the wealthier districts.

So on this warm July day, my daughter, Laurel, is almost two and a half years old. She speaks in full sentences, walks for semi-long distances, and sleeps through the night. She looks exactly like me – I can't see Gale in her at all. For that, I'm thankful. I don't want to look at her and see someone that I'm not particularly fond of. Gale, after I'd given birth, changed. He's now twenty-two and married to some random girl a year his junior, Amelia. And she _really _doesn't like me. I try to see her as infrequently as possible, but whenever I drop Laurel off on the weekends, she always finds time to glare at me. Gale's always kind, but I don't think I'll ever forgive him for leaving me in the woods by myself that day, or for getting me pregnant, for that matter.

I live in the small house next to my mother and Prim's. When Laurel turned two, I'd decided it was time I get my own house. Prim and my mother visit me quite frequently. When I'd told my mother I was pregnant, she sort of snapped out of the funk she'd been in since my father died. She blamed herself for not giving me 'the talk.' I told her that it was entirely me and Gale's fault, but she wouldn't believe it.

Prim comes over early in the morning to watch Laurel so I can hunt. I hunt for my mother, Prim, Laurel, and myself. I also have to get enough game so I can trade. Laurel doesn't eat much now, but I know that once she's older, I'm going to have to find a job. Most likely in the mines. I try not to think about that because mine-work is not appealing to me, and because Gale and I would have to come up with some alternate agreement with both of us in the mines all week long.

When I return, Laurel's still sleeping, so I convince Prim to stay so I can do my trading without the baby in tow. Prim complies and I promise I'll be quick. Then I head into town. Normally I'd go to the Hob, but today, I need bread. I go to Mellark's Bakery, which for my entire childhood was run by Mr. Mellark, father of three boys and husband to the town witch. But luckily, the bakery was inherited by the kindest of the three Mellark sons, Peeta. He was my age, in not six or seven months older. His older brothers had done internships with their wives' fathers. Peeta, as far as I knew, was single. I didn't understand how – he was the cream of the crop in District 12, in my opinion. Blonde curly hair, piercing blue eyes, tall, extremely muscular . . . maybe he was just picky when it came to women. And hey, when you looked like him, you could afford to be choosy.

When I walk into the bakery, it's empty. I realize it's still extremely early. Peeta walks out of the kitchen and looks at me. A small smile plays on his lips. "Hey, Katniss," he says. "Good morning."

"Good morning," I reply.

"Here to trade, I assume?"

"Yes," I say. "I have two squirrels to trade with today."

"Great, I've been having Katniss Everdeen squirrel withdrawals," he says, flashing me a smile. Oh, and he had a winning smile. He had it all.

"Today's your lucky day, then," I say. He looks over the squirrels for a minute before smiling again.

"Good shots," he says. I don't reply. He goes under the counter and pulls out two loaves of bread.

"That's way too much," I say.

"No, it's not," he says. "A squirrel for a loaf. It makes sense. And you shoot squirrels perfect. Right in the eye. You don't puncture anything edible."

"Yeah, but two squirrels normally equal one loaf of bread," I say, slightly agitated. He's taking pity on me. I might have a two and a half year old daughter, but I'm fully capable of caring for her without help.

"Two squirrels that are shot poorly equal one loaf of bread," he insists. "C'mon, Katniss, the second loaf's a day old anyway."

"You don't have to take pity on me," I snap. "I'm perfectly capable of providing for my family without your help."

He looks taken aback. "I'm not pitying you," he says slowly and carefully. "I only get meat when you bring me squirrels and you only get bread when you bring me squirrels."

"That doesn't mean I should get more bread than you get squirrels," I say.

"It's two for two!" he says, exasperated. "God. Just take the bread."

I scoff. "I'll take one loaf."

"Katniss, c'mon," he says.

I look at him for a long time. "Why?" I say. "Why are you trying to overpay me?"

He stares back at me for a long time. "Because of your daughter," he admits. "She's such a sweetheart. I want her to have enough to eat."

"She has enough to eat," I say sharply. "I can provide for her."

"I didn't mean it like that," he sighs. "Just take the bread, okay?" And with that, he grabs the squirrels and walks back in the kitchen. I stare in the direction of the kitchen for a moment before grabbing both of the loaves and heading home. When I arrive, Laurel's awake.

"Hi, Mommy!" calls Laurel as I walk in.

"Hey," I say, throwing the loaves on the table. I kiss the top of Laurel's head.

"Two loaves?" Prim asks incredulously. "God. Peeta must have a crush on you, or something."

"What?" I ask, totally surprised by her comment. "Peeta does _not _have a crush on me."

"Oh, please," Prim laughs. "He's had a crush on you since I was ten years old. You're just too . . . Katniss to see it."

"I'm too Katniss?" I say sarcastically. "Get out of my house."

Prim shrugs. "You're going to marry that boy someday. He adores Laurel."

"Who?" Laurel asks, climbing onto one of the chairs at the table.

"Mr. Mellark, the baker," Prim says.

"The what?" she asks.

"The place with the cookies," I say tiredly. "And the cakes and pies and stuff."

"Oh!" Laurel says. "I like it there."

"Everyone likes it there," Prim says, taking a seat next to Laurel at the table. I sit down across from Prim. "You like Mr. Mellark, don't you?"

"He gave me a cookie," Laurel says fondly. And it's true. Peeta had given Laurel a cookie for her second birthday. I didn't know about it until we'd left, however – Peeta knew I wouldn't take it if I'd known. "He's nice."

"And handsome," Prim remarks.

"Primrose!" I say.

"C'mon, Katniss, you're twenty!" Prim says. "Gale's moved on, why can't you?"

"I didn't even like Gale," I mutter. "I don't want that life, remember?"

"Well, you got half of the life you never wanted," Prim says, cocking her head towards Laurel, who sits oblivious to our conversation. "And whether you want to accept it or not, Laurel's not loved by Gale and Amelia half as much as she's loved by us, and honestly, I think Peeta loves Laurel more than Gale does."

"Gale loves her," I say. But even as I say it, I know it's probably not true. I mean, he does love her. But not as much as a father should love his daughter. It's obvious Laurel's second place to his unborn child with Amelia. And I know the baker has a soft-spot for Laurel; he said so himself.

"Yeah, okay," Prim scoffs. "Look. Mom and I have healing to do today. I have to go. But remember what I said."

"Yes, I'll remember every ridiculous thing you said," I say.

She rolls her eyes. "See you later, Katniss." She kisses Laurel's cheek. "Bye, Laurel!"

"Wait!" I call. I cut one of the loaves of bread in half and toss it to her. "Thanks for babysitting."

Prim looks at the bread and smiles. "Any time."

When she leaves, Laurel looks at me. "What was she talking about?"

"Nothing," I say. "Are you hungry?"

"Yes!" she says. "Why was she talking about Dad?"

"No reason," I say. "Want some bread? The baker gave me way too much."

"I like him," Laurel says. "He's nice."

"He is," I reply.

"He gave me a cookie."

"He did," I say.

"Mommy?" she asks tentatively as I give her a small slice of bread.

"What?"

"How come you and Dad don't live together?" she asks. "I mean, most mommies and dads live together."

I take a second to form my response. "Because me and your father aren't together," I say. "He's married to Amelia."

"Why?"

"Because he loves her," I say.

"Why?"

"I have absolutely no idea," I mutter.

"Did Dad love you?" she asks.

"Once," I say. "Before you were born."

"And why is Dad married but you're not?"

"Because I don't want to be married," I say. "I mean, if I find the right person, I guess I'd get married, but don't count on me finding the right person."

"Good," she says.

"Good?"

"Yeah," she says, taking a bite of the bread. "I don't want you to get married."

"Why not?" I ask.

"Amelia's mean," Laurel says.

"She's mean?" I ask. "How?"

"She yells a lot. Mostly at Dad. But sometimes at me."

"Why does she yell at you?" I ask, furious.

"She doesn't like it when I call him Daddy," Laurel shrugs. "Once she said Dad wasn't my dad."

"She said that to you?" I ask, seeing red in my fury. "She really said that to you?"

Laurel nods. "But she's wrong, right?"

"She's absolutely wrong," I say. "Gale is most _definitely _your father." I make a mental note to scream at Amelia the next time I see her.

Later that night, I'm about to make a squirrel for Laurel and I. But as I go to skin it, I feel extremely guilty. Like I don't deserve this squirrel. And then I look to the loaf and a half of bread on my counter and I sigh. "Damn baker."

I put the squirrel in my game-bag, grab Laurel, lock the door, and head into town. The bakery's closed, but I can see Peeta through the window. I knock on the door and he comes to open it. "Are you alright?" he asks. "Come in."

I walk through the door and set Laurel down. Immediately she rushes to the cookies. "Mommy, look!" she cries.

"I see them," I say. I turn to Peeta. He's looking at me with concerned eyes. "I brought you another squirrel. I owe you."

He rolls his eyes. "You don't owe me."

"I do," I say, pulling it out and tossing it on the counter. "Laurel, c'mon." Peeta grabs my wrist and closes and locks the door.

"You're not leaving here without payment for the squirrel," he says.

"You realize I can unlock the door and walk out whenever I feel like it?" I say.

He laughs. "Let's pretend it's locked from the outside."

"Yes, but that means you can't get out, either."

"Exactly," Peeta says.

I look at him strangely before he turns away. "I'll take the squirrel," he says. "But let me cook it. You two can have dinner with me tonight."

"Peeta, we don't want to impose," I say.

"You won't be imposing, I invited you," he says, smiling widely. "And it gets pretty lonely, living here by myself. It'll be nice to have some company." He walks over to Laurel and crouches down beside her. "Do you want to eat here with me and your mommy tonight?"

"I like you," Laurel says randomly.

"I like you, too," Peeta says.

"Aunt Prim thinks you're cute," Laurel says. My cheeks flush red and Peeta looks up at me.

"Is that true?" Peeta says.

"Yeah," Laurel says. "I think Mommy does too, they were talking about you–"

"Okay, Laurel, that's enough," I say, walking over to her and picking her up. "Peeta, we really should be going."

"There's no way I'm letting you go _now_," he says, eyeing me. I look at him for a long second before sighing. He's not going to take no for an answer.

"Fine," I say. "We'll stay for dinner."

His face lights up. "Great!" He motions for us to follow him upstairs to the apartment above the bakery, where he lives. When we arrive, I set Laurel on a chair and look around. It's fairly small – it has a kitchen, sitting room, and office on one side. The other side has a bedroom and three doors, which I assume are the doors to a bathroom, closet, and another bedroom.

Peeta stands beside me and Laurel runs to the other side of the apartment. "And, just so you know," he says. "I think you're cute, too." My cheeks flush red and Peeta walks towards the kitchen, not even looking back at me.

_Damn it_, I think. _Prim was right._


	2. Chapter 2

** Wow! Thanks for the amazing reviews on the first chapter! You guys made me so happy, I'm updating again :)**

** Keep it up!**

Laurel is fascinated with Peeta. She has the same conversation with him, over and over again. It goes a little something like this:

"What's your name?"

"I'm Peeta. You're Laurel."

"Do you work here?"

"Yeah, I run the bakery."

"How do you know my mommy?"

"We went to school together and she trades with me."

"Do you like her?"

"She's my friend."

"But do you _like _like her?"

"I don't you, do you?"

"She's my mommy, silly!"

And then the questions stop. The conversation happens at least ten times. I mouth apologies to Peeta as often as I can, but he just shakes his head and smiles. I can't help but notices that Peeta communicates with Laurel so much better than Gale does.

After the meal, Peeta and I do the dishes while Laurel tires herself out, running around and yelling at the top of her lungs. I try to shush her, but Peeta tells her to keep going. When I glare at him, he shrugs. "She's funny."

"Try living with her," I say.

"Touche," he laughs.

Laurel finally tires herself out enough to fall asleep. She's in a big reclining chair and she looks so tiny in it. "She looks exactly like you," Peeta says, coming up behind me. I jump.

"How unfortunate for her," I say softly.

"Really?" he says. "I think she's damn lucky to look like you."

I blush again. He goes to the kitchen and pours two glasses of juice. Then, he motions for me to follow him. He takes me out onto a balcony overlooking the town. He sets the juice on a table and tells me to sit in one of the chairs. I do as he says and he sits next to me. "She'll be alright in there by herself, right?"

"She'll be fine," I say. "If she wakes up she'll find us pretty easily."

Peeta smiles. "This is where I go in the evenings," he says. "I mean, in the horrible winter months I don't come out here, but . . . yeah."

"It's nice," I say honestly. "We don't have anything like this in the Seam."

"One of the few good things about the town is the two story buildings," Peeta says. "You can see everything."

"One of the few good things?" I say. "There's nothing good about the Seam."

"Oh, c'mon," he says. "Everyone here's all about the gossip. Who married who, who's cheating on who, who slept with who. The Seam doesn't have that."

"Yeah, but you have air-conditioning, indoor plumbing, and, oh, yeah, food," I say. He laughs.

"You have love there," he says softly. "Love is something the town is sorely lacking in."

"What would you rather have?" I ask. "Love or food?"

"Love," he says. "You?"

"Food," I say.

"You're just saying that because you have Laurel to look out for," Peeta says. "Everyone wants love."

"Not me," I say.

"C'mon."

"Gale asked me to marry him and I said no," I blurt out. Peeta's taken aback.

"Did you really love him?" he asks.

I cringe. "You don't really know the story of how Laurel came to be, do you."

"I get the logistics of how she physically came to be, Katniss," he says sarcastically. "I'm twenty one years old, you know."

Oh. So he's at least ten months older than me.

"Gale and I weren't even dating," I say. "He actually loved me and I was . . . curious, I guess. I didn't think my curiosity would land me with a baby."

"But you love her more than anything," he says. "I've only seen you like that with one other person."

"Prim?" I say.

"Yep," he laughs. "You're a good mom, Katniss. Laurel adores you. But she doesn't seem too fond of her stepmother."

"That makes two of us," I laugh. "She's a horrible woman."

"Amelia was always nice when we were kids," Peeta points out.

"Yes, but I had a child with her husband," I say. "That sort of . . . you know, makes a girl angry."

"I wouldn't be a jerk to Gale if you and I got married," he says easily. I shift uncomfortably at the thought of marrying Peeta. "Not that I want to marry you, or anything. I mean, that wouldn't be a horrible thing, to marry you, it'd be great, actually, but, you know . . . I'm just going to shut up."

It'd be great to marry me? _Shit_, I think. _What the hell do I say to that?_

"I don't know what to say."

"Just be honest," he says, cringing.

"I don't think it would be a horrible thing to marry you, either," I say. _Wait, what?_

Did I really just say that? Oh, brother. This is why I speak with my brain and not my heart. Because when I speak with my heart, I speak with my emotions. And emotions are for girly-girls, the girls who actually want to get married someday.

He smiles widely. "You know what Laurel was asking me, about like-liking you?"

"Yeah," I say.

"I do," he says. "I do like-like you. I like-like you a lot, actually. I have since . . . forever."

I turn to look at him for a long time. "This is when you say you like me back," he offers.

I laugh. Do I like Peeta Mellark? It's obvious that I'm attracted to him. Does attraction equal liking him? I suppose it does. "I . . . I like you back."

He sighs in relief. "Can I take you out Friday night? We can go to dinner and maybe see a movie."

_Oh, Lord_, I think. _My first date._ "I drop Laurel off at Gale's at six," I say.

"I'll pick you up at seven, then," he says. He sits for a long time. "And Katniss?"

"Yeah?" I say.

"Thanks for the squirrel."

Peeta walks Laurel and I home. He carries Laurel the entire way and she doesn't wake up at all. When we arrive, he comes inside and drops her off in her bed.

"I'd offer you something but I don't really have anything," I say, embarrassed.

"No, you're fine," he says, looking around. "This is a really nice place you have, Katniss. It's homey."

"Don't lie to me," I say, walking into the kitchen.

"I'm not lying," he replies. "I like it."

"Thank you, then," I say. He smiles.

"So, seven o'clock on Friday?" he says. "We still on?"

"Definitely," I say.

He smiles even wider. "I should get going, I have to get up early tomorrow. I had a great time tonight."

"Us too," I say. "Thanks for inviting us over."

"Thanks for the squirrel," he repeats. I smile.

"Goodnight, Peeta," I say. He touches my arm and walks out the door. I feel his touch linger and somewhere, deep down, I long for him to touch me again. But I push the thought out of my brain. I lock all the doors and head into my room. I go to bed, thinking about Peeta Mellark.

I head to Gale's at five forty five on Friday. I hope to God Amelia's not home, because if she is, I will physically kick her pregnant ass into next week. Telling my daughter that her father isn't really her father isn't going to fly with me. No, Amelia woke up the mama bear in me.

When I knock on the door, Gale answers. He smiles at me and Laurel. "Hey, ladies," he says, grabbing Laurel from me. "How are you, Katniss?"

"Good. Yourself?"

"I'm doing alright," he says. "Did she behave alright this week?"

"She was great," I say. "Gale, can I talk to you?"

"Um, sure," he says, stepping outside and closing the door after he set Laurel down inside. She runs off to find Amelia. "What's going on?"

"Can I be blunt?"

"You're always blunt," he says.

I roll my eyes. "Your wife told _my _daughter that you weren't her father."

He looks at me in disbelief. "Katniss, she wouldn't do such a thing, she's a good lady–"

"Really?" I say. "She's a good lady? I hear she yells at you _and _Laurel, a lot."

"She's pregnant, it's hormones," he says.

"I was pregnant once, Gale," I say. "And I wasn't yelling at everyone and telling random kids that their father really wasn't their father."

"Laurel's not a random kid to her, she's her stepdaughter, for crying out loud!" Gale shouts. "Katniss, this is ridiculous. Amelia's a good person."

"You deserve better, Gale," I say. "You deserve better and you know it."

"What, like you?" he scoffs. "You had your shot, Katniss, and you turned me down. If you've changed your mind, it's too damn late."

I look at him in disbelief. "No, you moron!" I shout. "I'll never want to marry you!" I lower my voice. "In fact, I have a date tonight."

He laughs out loud. I'm offended at his reaction. "What is so funny?"

"You have a date?" he laughs, doubling over. "Oh my God, Katniss, that's the funniest thing I've heard all week."

"I do have a date!" I say.

"With who?" Gale asks as his laughing subsides.

"Peeta Mellark," I say.

"The baker?" Gale asks. "The one every girl in District 12 fawns over?"

"The very one," I say haughtily.

He laughs again, doubling over. "C'mon, Katniss, stop lying to me."

"I'm not lying to you!" I say, annoyed. "He asked me out and I said yes. He's a nice guy and Laurel likes him a lot."

That stops his laughing. "Laurel likes him?"

"Yes."

"Katniss, I thought we agreed we'd keep boyfriends and girlfriends out of her life until we were thinking about marriage," he says sternly.

"He's the freakin' baker, Gale," I say. "Everyone knows him. She's liked him her entire life."

He rolls his eyes. "Laurel didn't know Amelia until we were engaged, you know."

"Gale," I say slowly. "I will go on my dates on the weekends, just like you went on dates during the week. Understand?"

He sighs. "I understand. But if this Mellark guy fucks with Laurel, or with you, for that matter, he's dead, okay?"

"Why do you care about me anymore?" I say.

"Because you were my best friend once," he says. "And you're my baby mama. I've got to look out for you, right?"

"Did you just call me your baby mama?" I say. "Oh my God."

He laughs. "I better get inside," he says. "Have fun tonight, alright?"

"I will." As I'm walking down the driveway, he calls my name.

"Don't forget to wear protection!" he shouts. "You've already made that mistake once!"

"Shut up!" I shout back at him, but even I have to admit that it was funny.

I borrow one of my mother's dresses for the evening and Prim does my hair. I wear a tiny bit of makeup, just to accentuate my eyes. I make Prim leave before Peeta arrives.

He shows up right at seven o'clock. He knocks on the door and I open it. He has flowers. I've never been given flowers before – in fact, I've never been on a date before. Unless you count those ten minutes with Gale in the woods . . . I don't generally count that.

"You look beautiful, Katniss," Peeta says.

"Thank you," I say, embarrassed. I invite him inside and put the flowers in a vase.

"We have a little time before the reservation," he says, looking at his watch. "We could hang here or do something in town."

"We can hang out here," I say.

"Cool," he says. He looks at my broken cupboards and countertops. "You know, I could fix these really easily."

"Yeah?" I say.

"Definitely," he says. "They're not in bad shape. It'd take me an hour."

"I'm going to have to take you up on that, then," I say. "How much would it be?"

"Absolutely free," Peeta says.

"Peeta–"

"What kind of a guy would I be if I made the girl I'm dating pay me to fix her kitchen?" he says. "I'll tell you – I'd be an asshole."

"Yes, but I don't want to owe you anything," I say.

"I know how you can pay me back," he says, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

"Oh my God," I laugh, shoving him away from me playfully.

"I'm just kidding," he says.

"You better be," I say. "I did it once and look where it landed me."

"With the most amazing daughter in the world?" he says. "I'd say that's a pretty good reason to do it."

"Look what I'm living in," I say. "Even my mother's is better than this dump."

"This isn't a dump," Peeta replies. "And I'm going to fix up the unpleasant parts of it, okay?"

When we arrive at the restaurant, Peeta opens the door for me _and _pulls my chair out for me. It's enough to make me, a very ungirly-girl, to swoon just a little. He orders some crazy fish dish from 4 as an appetizer and allows me to order whatever I want off the menu – even when the item I picked was the most expensive thing on the menu. I didn't notice and Peeta didn't tell me. It was when I saw the check that I was outraged.

"Okay, that meal was not worth the cost," I say when we left. "That's about the amount of money I make in a month."

"I make a good living, Katniss," he says. "You don't have to worry."

"Yeah, yeah," I mutter. "Where to next?"

"Well, Miss Everdeen, it's around nine thirty," he says, glancing at his watch. "We could catch a movie, if you want."

"That sounds like fun," I say.

"Is there a specific time you want to be home?" he asks.

"I'm daughter-less on the weekends," I say.

"That's very convenient for me, you know," he says, tentatively grabbing my hand. I smile like an idiot (God, what is happening to me) and wrap my fingers around his.


	3. Chapter 3

** I hope you all had a wonderful 4****th**** of July! I was downtown with my sisters and a few of our friends to watch the fireworks. It was so freakin' hot but the fireworks were AWESOME and I had a great time. I hope you hung out with your families and watched fireworks, as well!**

** I like this chapter, I think it's my favorite of the three so far. The only problem is that there's no Laurel :( She's with Gale and (the evil stepmother) Amelia. But she'll most likely show up in the next chapter, and if not then, definitely the one after. **

** Enjoy and review :)**

We end up seeing some idiotic romantic comedy. It's cheesy and stupid. Peeta agrees. When we leave the theater, it's almost midnight.

"Where to now, miss?" he says, grabbing my hand as we walk back to his car.

"I don't care," I say. Normally, by midnight, I'm drop-dead exhausted, but now, I'm just exhilarated. "You get out more than I do."

"I highly doubt it," he laughs. "I don't get out much."

"I don't get out at all," I say. "I have a daughter, remember?"

"How could that've slipped my mind," he teases, opening the car door for me. He walks around the other side and gets in. We drive in silence for a moment before Peeta pulls up at the bakery. I look at him questioningly. He smiles widely. "Dessert time."

He gets out of the car, opens the door for me, and we head inside. He goes back into the kitchen and I wait hesitantly in the front room. I didn't think I was supposed to be in the kitchen. He pokes his head around the door and says, "Are you coming?" I laugh and go back into the kitchen. When I get there, my mouth instantly waters. Cookies, cakes and bread galore. I don't know how Peeta doesn't weight eight hundred pounds surrounded by all this good food.

"See anything in particular that you'd want to eat?" he says.

"How about everything?" I say.

He laughs. "I'm kind of in the mood for the 10-layer German chocolate cake. I only let myself eat that on special occasions."

"And this is a special occasion?" I ask, raising my eyebrows.

"This is a _very _special occasion."

I find myself smiling as he grabs the chocolate cake from the shelf. "I made it fresh this afternoon," he says. He cuts two very large pieces and puts them on plates. He takes both plates and heads upstairs to his apartment. I obediently follow.

He sets the cakes on the table and gets two forks. He hands one to me. "Bon appetite," he says as I take my first bite.

"Oh my God, Peeta," I say. "That is the most amazing thing I've ever eaten."

He blushes. "I wouldn't go that far . . ."

I devour the cake almost as fast as he does. He goes back downstairs and grabs the whole cake. "Seconds?"

I eat half my second piece before I'm stuffed. Peeta eats his entire second piece plus my second half. "You eat a lot," I point out.

"Is that a fat joke?" he teases, picking up the plates and dropping them in the sink.

"Maybe," I reply and he feigns hurt.

"I'm going to get you for that," he says.

"And how are you going to do that?"

He takes his finger, scoops some icing off the cake, and walks over to me. Before I know what he's doing, he smears it on my cheek. I gasp in surprise. "Hey, Katniss, you have a little something on your cheek," he says, laughing.

"Are you serious?" I say, but I'm trying hard not to laugh, too.

"As a heart attack."

"It's on."

I get some icing and smear it on his cheek, as well. He gets more icing and backs me into the wall. His hips pin me there gently. And I find that I really, _really _want him to kiss me. I don't know where that's coming from, I've never felt this before. But I really want him too.

He takes the icing and smears it from my forehead down to my chin. He gets everything except my eyes. "You look beautiful with icing on your face," he whispers.

"You're not too bad, either," I whisper back. Wait. Did I just compliment him? God, what's happening to me?

He smiles before leaning into my face and kissing me very gently on the mouth. I respond almost immediately. His tongue runs along my bottom lip and I open my mouth, letting him in. Our tongues find each other tentatively at first. We kiss like this for a long time. He pulls away and smiles widely at me. "I'm going to get this icing off you, okay?" he says.

I nod, my head spinning. I think he's going to go get napkins and wipe it off, but instead, he brings his lips to my cheek and slowly begins to lick the icing off me. I'm so surprised that I almost squeal. But it feels good, Peeta's lips on me. I want to feel his lips everywhere, not just on my face. _Oh God. Did I really just say that?_

It takes him a few minutes to get it all off my face. When he pulls away, he looks at me shyly. I decide to get the icing off his cheek, as well. "I'm gonna get the icing off you, too," I say. He nods. I bring my lips to his cheek and slowly open my mouth to get the icing. His skin is soft and he smells good. Really good. I feel him sigh contentedly as I get the last bit of icing off his face.

"I wish you'd put more icing on me," he whispers when I pull away.

"Yeah?" I say. "Me, too."

He looks at me questioningly for a minute before kissing my forehead and backing away. "I don't want to go too far," he says.

I nod, understanding. "That's a lie," he says. "I do want to go too far. It's just that . . . it's not the right thing to do."

"I know," I sigh.

"But I do have a question for you," he says. I raise my eyebrows. "I know this has only been our first date, and all, but I think we really hit it off. And I really like you."

"The feeling's mutual," I say quietly. He smiles widely before continuing.

"Katniss, would you like to be my girlfriend?"

I smile. I'd be Peeta's _girlfriend. _He'd be my _boyfriend_. I'd never had a boyfriend before. Peeta had had girlfriends before, I knew – he was Peeta Mellark, for God's sake. One of the most desired boys in 12 wanted to be my boyfriend. "Yeah," I say softly.

He smiles widely. "I nearly one in the morning, you know."

"I never stay up this late," I say.

"Can I make you dinner tomorrow?" he says. "You're still Laurel-less, right?"

"Yeah," I say. "And I'd like that."

He smiles. "Alright. I'll take you home."

"I can walk," I say.

"You're my girlfriend," he says. "I can't make you walk."

"Fine," I say, rolling my eyes. He laughs and motions for me to follow him downstairs.

"I can come over and fix your cupboards tomorrow afternoon if you want," Peeta says. "I get up way early for the bakery and I can be done by noon or one and come over at, like, two."

"That'd be great," I say. "I'd like that."

"I can fix them and then take you back to my place for dinner," he says. By this time, we're halfway to my home.

"That sounds great," I say.

"Awesome," he says. "I promise I won't make squirrel."

I laugh. "I have to hunt tomorrow," I say. "If I'm not back by two, there's a spare key in the backyard underneath the skinning table."

"That's an . . . odd place," Peeta says.

"You never would've guessed," I say. "Right?"

"Very, very true," he laughs. He pulls into my driveway and walks me to my door. "I had a really great time tonight, Katniss," he says.

"I did, too," I say. "Even if the movie did suck."

He laughs. "That movie did suck."

"But dinner was good," I say. "And that German chocolate cake was amazing."

"Thank you," he says. He leans in and kisses me softly. He brings his hands to my waist and pulls me to him. I put my hands on his shoulders and kiss him back. He breaks away after a moment and smiles. "Good night, Katniss. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Good night, Peeta," I say softly as he walks back to his car.

"Damn it!" Peeta shouts for the fifth time since he's been here.

"I thought you said it would be easy," I say, sitting at the kitchen table. He's attempting (very poorly, I might add) to fix my cupboards. He's been at it for almost a half an hour.

"I did, too," he says. "I just figured they were messed up because they were old. These were built poorly. I'm going to have to take them all the way down and put them back up right."

"And how long will that take?" I ask.

"More than an hour," he says.

"Wonderful," I groan, banging my head on the table.

"Don't be a downer," he says, turning around. His face is flushed and his hair is matting to his face from the sweat. He's wearing a tight, white t-shirt and dark blue jeans. I notice how . . . good he looks. _That's my boyfriend_, I think. I can't help but feel strange. Peeta Mellark, cream of the crop, is my boyfriend. As far as Seam girls go, I'm pretty damn lucky. "I won't be done before dinner, though."

"I'm hungry now," I say, getting up and cutting myself a piece of bread. I offer one to him and he takes it.

"It's two forty five," he says.

"I skipped lunch," I shrug. "I was hunting."

"Get anything good?"

"Few squirrels, a couple birds, and a wild turkey," I say.

"A turkey?" he asks, eyes wide. "Wow."

"I catch a turkey once a month, at least," I say. "I normally sell them. I can get a good amount of money for them."

"Did you sell the turkey already?"

"No," I say. "Why?"

"I'll trade you for it," he says.

"What?" I say. "Why do you want a turkey?"

"So I can eat it," he says. "Duh. I can make some turkey dish for dinner tonight."

"What's in it for me?" I ask, raising my eyebrows. He laughs.

"A kiss," he says, leaning in to kiss me. It's a short, soft one. I can't say I'm not disappointed. I like the long, passionate kisses, the ones he gave me last night and when he first saw me earlier today.

"That doesn't seem very fair," I say. "A whole turkey for a wimpy kiss like that."

"A wimpy kiss?" he asks, feigning hurt. "Don't tempt me, woman."

"I'll tempt you all I want," I tease, patting his chest once and turning away from him.

"You're in for it now," he says. I hear three heavy footfalls and then his arms are around my waist, lifting me up in the air.

"Peeta!" I cry, laughing. "Put me down!"

"No way!" he says. He turns me so I'm facing him. He's lifting me at least a foot in the air. I bend down and kiss him, wrapping my legs around his waist. He pulls me tighter and slowly backs me into the wall. This way, He can hold me up with his pelvis. The kiss is more passionate than any other we've shared – it's the first time I've kissed him. His hands explore my body, not touching any of my sensitive areas. For that I'm thankful and annoyed.

My hands are tangled in his hair and our bodies are pressed extremely close together. He smells like vanilla and cinnamon and his lips taste like icing. My mind is spinning – if I wasn't so tightly pressed against a wall, I would've fallen over by now. Every time our tongues collide, I feel as if I'm flying. When he pulls away, he kisses down my cheek and my neck. When he reaches the fleshy spot between my collarbone and my neck, I let out an involuntary moan. Peeta's head jerks up in surprise. "You okay?" he asks breathlessly.

I nod. "I think I found your sweet spot," he whispers, returning to it. I moan again. I don't care how pathetic or weak I sound. It feels damn good and I'm going to let him know. He stays at the spot for at least a minute. It's the sweetest, most pleasurable yet tantalizing minute of my life. It isn't until he gently bites down on the spot that I make a high-pitched, very girly noise. Peeta kisses back up to my lips. "That was the sexiest noise I've ever heard in my life," he murmurs, or lips partially connected.

"Hmm," is all I respond before kissing him again. I'm blinded by the feeling of his lips on me. I can't help but feel his erection pressed against me – his pelvis is holding me up. I'm not thinking straight. The only thing I want is to feel this good even more. "Peeta, do you have protection?"

He looks at me in surprise. "I might in my toolbox. Are you sure?"

I nod. He looks at me wearily. "Are you absolutely positive? I completely understand if you want to wait–"

"I don't want to wait," I say. "Do you?"

"No, but that's because I love–" he pauses, his cheeks flaming red. "I don't . . . I mean . . ."

"Were you about to say I love you?" I ask in disbelief.

He looks at me with a torn expression on his face. "I have for years," he says softly. "I mean, I always had this crush on you, even when we were five years old. But when I saw that you were pregnant, with someone else's baby, I got really . . . pissed off. I thought that if I'd just asked you out, maybe that wouldn't have happened. And even if it did, it would've been with me. That's when I realized that my little crush wasn't a crush anymore."

"You've loved me for three years?" I say.

He nods. "I'm sorry if that seems really, _really _creepy. I just . . . you're beautiful, Katniss. And you deserve better than what you've been given."

"It is kind of creepy," I say. He looks crestfallen. "In a really, _really _sweet way."

He smiles. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," I say. I bring my lips to his again.

"Do you still want to use that protection?" Peeta asks.

"Definitely," I say softly. He smiles and kisses me again. Just as he's about to carry me off to my bedroom, we're slightly interrupted.

"Katniss?" Prim says, her eyes wide.


	4. Chapter 4

** I'm sorry it's been a few days since I've posted anything. My little sister was playing in a softball tournament and my best friend turned eighteen the other day, so we went down south and stayed in a cabin for a couple days. This summer has been so cool because I have my license (finally) so I've been able to really do whatever as long as my parents are okay with it! But band camp starts in thirteen days. :/**

"Prim!" I say quickly. I unwrap my legs from Peeta's waist and Peeta lets go of me quickly. But Prim knows what she saw. Her eyebrows are raised and she looks utterly shocked.

"Hey," Prim says. "Mom told me to drop off some of the herbs I picked in the Meadow."

"Thanks!" I say, my voice high-pitched and embarrassed. Peeta stands awkwardly next to the wall.

"I didn't mean to interrupt anything," she says, looking from me to Peeta uncomfortably. "I guess I'll see you later."

"Wait," I say. "Peeta, this is my sister, Prim. Prim, you know Peeta."

"Yeah," Prim says. "Hi, Peeta."

"Hey, Prim," Peeta says, waving strangely at her.

"Okay," Prim says. "I'm going to go." With that, she races out the door. Peeta and I stand in silence for a moment before we both start laughing.

"Did you see her face?" I say. "Oh my God, she was so embarrassed!"

"She was embarrassed?" Peeta says. "That was horrible!"

"She's going to go back and tell my mother, you know," I say.

"What a great first impression," he mutters, returning to my cupboards. The moment's past. I'm glad and upset about that. Part of me wanted to know what it would be like with Peeta, but I know that I'd regret it. We really should wait. It's the right thing to do. But since when do I care what's right and what's wrong?

It takes almost four hours for Peeta to finish my cupboards. By the time we leave my house, it's already seven and I'm starving. It takes him a half an hour to make some of the wild turkey (for which he gave me four loaves of bread and a few more kisses) and it's delicious. When we've finished eating, it's almost nine.

"What do you want to do?" he asks when we finish the dishes.

"I don't care," I shrug. "What do you want to do?"

"I don't care, either," he says. "We could go to the mall."

"The mall?" I ask, crinkling my nose. I've never been one for shopping.

"Yeah, I have to pick up a few things, anyway," Peeta says. "I'll buy you ice-cream."

"Oh, if I get ice-cream I'll go," I tease. He laughs and grabs my hand and we walk down to his car. The drive to the mall isn't long. When we go in, I see a few people I remember from school and I'm instantly uncomfortable. This is why I avoid big spaces like the mall, movie theaters, restaurants, on Saturday nights. I never liked them to begin with, and all they ever did was judge me because of where I came from and what I did when I was seventeen. Some say hello to Peeta and completely ignore me.

"They're idiots," Peeta tells me when they walk away. They're all town-folk, from Peeta's neck of the woods. Peeta Mellark being seen with a Seam girl can't be good news for anyone, especially when his mother finds out. She's always hated the Seam. I don't know why, but she has something against us. "They're not even close to as happy with their lives as you are with yours."

"What makes you think I'm happy with my life?" I counter.

"Because I'm your boyfriend," he teases. "Duh."

"Ha, ha," I say.

"Because you have the coolest daughter in the world," Peeta says. "Because your little sister and your mother are within spitting distance of you. Because you don't care what other people think. I'd be happy if I had your life."

"I am happy," I say. "But things could've turned out better."

"Everything could be better," Peeta says. "C'mon, I need to go in here." We walk inside a cooking supplies store and he purchases a couple whisks, two spatulas, and a rolling pin. "The rolling pin I have at the bakery is the same one my father used," he tells me. "It's not rolling things properly."

"It's not rolling things properly?" I repeat.

He laughs. "Shut up."

He takes me to an ice cream shop and orders two vanilla cones. We eat them on the way out to his car. "Well, that wasted a half an hour," Peeta says. "I know where we should go next."

"Where?" I say.

"The woods."

After fifteen minutes of arguing, he finally talks me into taking him into the woods. An hour later, he's standing in the woods, observing everything. "So this is the woods," he says.

"This is the woods," I say.

"This is amazing," he says. "I've never been in anything like this before. I'm jealous that you get to come out here every day."

"It's not every day," I say. "Most days, though."

"I could stay out here forever," Peeta says. "Out here, I can actually be free. In there, in the town, I have to act like someone I'm not. Here . . . with you, I can be me."

I blush. "I want to show you something," I reply. "Follow me." He follows me for a long time through the woods. It's a hard hike, but he doesn't complain. Finally, we arrive at my little sanctuary.

The lake.

"Wow," he says. "This is . . . beautiful."

"My father showed me this," I say softly. "He taught me to swim here. I come here when I need to get away. I've never shown anyone this before."

"Not even Gale?" Peeta asks, a slight edge to his voice.

"Not even Gale," I say.

"Thank you for showing this to me," he says softly. "It's amazing."

The sun finishes its descent just a little while later. The days are long in July. We sit by the lake for a long time and I tell him about my father. I've never spoken so openly about him before – but I really trust Peeta. He doesn't press or ask questions. He just lets me talk.

"He sounds like a great man," Peeta says. "I wish I could've known him."

"He was a great man," I say. "He would've liked you."

Peeta smiles. "Yeah?"

"You're not like them, Peeta," I say, referring to the other town people. "You're different. You're the only one of them that's even remotely sufferable. Besides Madge."

"I don't want to be like them," Peeta says softly. "They're not happy. They don't marry who they love, they marry based on stature. I refuse to do that. If I love someone, I'm going to be there for her whenever she needs me. I'm all in or all out."

"Are you all in or all out with me?" I ask.

"All in," he says, not even bothering to think. "You?"

"All in," I reply.

He smiles widely. "I'm really happy to hear you say that, Katniss." He pauses for a moment. "Will you teach me how to swim?"

"You don't know how to swim?" I ask.

"No," he says. "I've never even seen something like this before. Only in pictures."

"C'mon, then," I say, standing up and pulling him to his feet. "It's really, really easy."

"Just don't let me drown, okay?"

"Never," I reply.

We stand on the edge of the lake. "The best way to learn," I begin, "Is to just jump right in." Then, I push him in. I know the water is only four and a half feet deep here, but Peeta doesn't. He falls in and when we resurfaces, he's splashing around.

"Why would you do that?" he asks, but I'm laughing too hard to respond. I jump in beside him and pat his shoulder teasingly.

"You're going to be fine," I say.

"That was really cruel," he says, but I know he's trying not to laugh.

"C'mon," I say, beckoning him to follow me out further. He does tentatively.

"I don't know if I can trust you now," he teases, but I just splash him. When we reach a point where it's too deep for me to walk, I show him how to tread water. He does so easily.

"As long as you can do that, you'll never drown," I tell him.

"You're a very good teacher," he tells me.

"You haven't even learned the swimming part of it yet," I say.

"Well, let's get to it, then," he says. I show him the simple arm movements and then I demonstrate. It takes him about ten minutes to be able to do it successfully. I show him how to float, as well.

"That's it?" he asks when I tell him we're done. "That was way too easy."

"It takes time to get good at it, though," I say.

"You'll have to bring me back here, then," he says. He climb out of the lake, our clothes dripping wet.

"Damn," he says. "We should've taken some of our clothes off before we got in."

"That would've been smart," I say.

We lay in the grass for awhile, my head on his chest and his arms around my waist. "Peeta?" I say softly.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for fixing my cupboards today."

He chuckles. "No problem, Katniss."

I press my lips to his and we kiss for a long time. I roll over so I'm on top of him and his hands slide into my back pockets. My hands are tangled in his hair, his perfect, perfect hair. Our tongues fight for dominance but in the end, he takes control. I've never been one for affection, but Peeta's a very affectionate person. He can control the physical side of our relationship.

I don't know how long we're like this, but I know it's a while. When we finally untangle ourselves, I know it's late. We make the long hike back to Peeta's car and when he turns it on, it's after two in the morning. When he pulls into my driveway, he turns off the car and walks me to my door. He kisses me in the lips and once again, I find myself entangling my fingers in his hair as he holds me tight at the waist. I'm the first to pull away. "You can stay here if you want," I say. "I mean, it's late."

"It's only ten minutes to my house," he says. "But I'll stay if you want me to stay."

"I mean, if you want to, you can," I say, embarrassed by my offer. "You don't have to, just if you want–"

"Katniss," he says. "Do you want me to stay?" Do I want him to stay? All my mind can think of is how right it felt out by the lake, lying in Peeta's arms. How I felt like I could just stay there forever.

I just nod my head. He smiles and kisses my forehead. He locks his car while I unlock my door. I open it and we walk inside. I close and lock the door before we wander into the kitchen. "Want anything?" I ask.

"I'll get it," he says, going into my cupboard and grabbing two glasses. He hands me one and then gets himself a glass of water. I do the same.

"It's late," I point out.

"That's been established," he says, raising his eyebrows.

"Do you want to watch TV or . . . I guess we could go to bed," I say, looking down.

He laughs. "Katniss, you seem very uncomfortable."

"This is weird," I admit. "Is it weird for you too?"

"Maybe a little," he says. "Let's go to bed."

"I have some of my father's old clothes," I say when we walk into my bedroom. He's never seen it before. "You can wear those."

"I can sleep in this if you don't want me to wear those," he says. "Those probably have some sort of sentimental value."

I shake my head. "I don't want you to sleep in your wet clothes," I say.

He shrugs his shoulders. "I like your bedroom," he says. "Especially the picture." On my bedside table is a picture of Laurel and I on Laurel's second birthday. My mother had taken it with a camera I'd given to her for Christmas one year. I'd traded four squirrels for it.

"Thank you," I say as I hand him a white t-shirt and a pair of black sweatpants. "I'll go into the bathroom to change into my pajamas."

My pajamas consisted of a tank-top and shorts. I changed, washed my face, and re-braided my hair. For good measure, I put on some deodorant and brushed my teeth. There would be a boy in my bed tonight. I'd never had a boy in my bed. It wasn't just any boy, either. It was Peeta Mellark.

So many girls would kill for a chance to share a bed with Peeta Mellark. Not only for what might happen there, but just to snuggle with him. And I'm getting to do that now. I'm sharing a bed with Peeta Mellark. The thought pleases me but it also terrifies me. I exit the bathroom and crack the door open. "Are you done?" I ask.

"Yeah," he says. "C'mon in." He's standing and looking at the picture again. "I would've laid down, but I don't know which side you sleep on."

I point to the right side and he sits on the left. I lay down and he follows suit. We pull the blankets up and I turn the lamp off. It's dark and Peeta Mellark is in my bed.

"Come here," he whispers so softly that I can barely hear it. But he's opened his arms and I don't hesitate to situate myself in them.

"Gale will drop Laurel off at two," I say softly. "You'll need to leave by then."

He nods. "So Gale doesn't see me?"

I pause. "And Laurel."

He shifts underneath me. "What?"

"Look, Gale and I agreed a long time ago that Laurel doesn't meet the boyfriends/girlfriends until we're engaged," I say quickly.

He stays silent for a moment. "That makes sense," he finally says.

"I just don't want her to get close to you and then have us break up," I say.

"I understand," he says softly. "I don't like it, but I'd do the same thing if I were in your position."

"If it makes you feel any better, I don't like it either," I say. "It's Gale who really wants me to keep you out of her life for now."

"But I'm already in her life," Peeta says. "She likes me."

"Gale's her father," I say. "I have to respect his wishes."

"I don't," Peeta mutters.

"Peeta," I say softly.

"Does this mean I won't get to see you during the week?" he says.

"Unless I can get Prim to babysit, no," I say.

"Katniss, c'mon," he says. "I want to see you every minute of every day. And I want to be a part of your daughter's life."

"Peeta . . ."

"How am I supposed to show you how good of a father I'll be?" he whispers. "If I'm supposed to be out of her life until we're engaged, how am I supposed to show you how great of a stepfather I could be?"

"I don't want you to not be a part of her life," I tell him. "But I have to respect Gale's wishes."

"What he doesn't know won't hurt him," Peeta says. "Please, Katniss. You and Laurel are a package deal and I know that. I _want _to be part of her life. And I promise that if you and I ever break up, I can still be part of her life. But I don't plan on us breaking up."

I blush, but luckily he can't see it. "Fine," I say. "But Gale won't find out about this and if he does, it stops. Okay?"

He smiles widely and kisses the top of my head. "Thank you, Katniss."

"For what?" I ask.

"For showing me that you care about me enough to let me be a part of your kid's life," he says. "And it means you're not planning for us to break up, either."

"I'm not," I say softly. "I don't want us to."

"Good night, Katniss," he says sleepily.

"Night, Peeta," I reply. Normally it takes me a long time to fall asleep. But in the safety of Peeta's arms, I'm asleep in minutes.


	5. Chapter 5

** Hey everyone! This is a filler and it skips a big chunk of time, but there's some serious Gale and Amelia vs. Katniss drama! I don't go into much detail because that huge stuff goes on later in the story :) You just wait ;p**

** Enjoy and review!**

When I wake up the next morning, Peeta's not in bed. I get up quickly and go to the kitchen. I see he left a note.

_Good morning!_ _Went into town to get supplies for breakfast. Be back soon._

_ Love,_

_ Peeta_

I smile and go get dressed. I re-braid my hair, brush my teeth, apply deodorant, and I put on lotion that Prim got for me years ago. She'd traded an entire month's worth of Lady's milk for it and I've used it maybe twice. But now, since I have a _boyfriend_, I can use it more frequently.

When I return to the kitchen, Peeta's back with eggs, bread, and bacon. "Hey," he says, setting his supplies down on the counter and kissing me quickly. "I didn't know you were up."

"You must wake up really early," I point out. It's barely seven in the morning and he's been out and back already.

"I'm up at four every morning for the bakery," Peeta says. "I slept in till five forty five this morning."

"Yeah, that's what I call sleeping in," I laugh.

"Perks of being the town baker," he says, turning on the stove. He scrambles some eggs and makes the bread into toast. The bacon sizzles on a griddle he must've brought from the bakery. It takes him fifteen minutes to make the entire meal. He divides the eggs onto two plates, puts two pieces of bacon on each plate, and then puts two pieces of toast, cut in half, on each plate. "Bon appetite," he says when he sets one plate in front of me.

The food is amazing. "You should make me breakfast every morning," I tease.

"I'd be happy to," he says. "I'm sure Laurel likes eggs, right?"

"She loves them," I reply.

"Do you still want me out of here by two?" he asks.

I nod. "But just so Gale doesn't see you. Laurel would love to see you."

He smiles. "She's really special, Katniss," he says. "You and Gale are so lucky to have something like her."

I look at my plate uncomfortably. How is it that Peeta, who's spent all of five hours with Laurel in her entire life, knows how special she is, but Gale can't see it? Gale spends every weekend with her. I know that Peeta is a better man than Gale; I've known that my entire life. But I know Peeta would be a good father to Laurel, if we ever made it to . . . marriage.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

I shake my head. "You didn't," I insist. "It's just . . . it's nothing."

"It's not nothing," he says. "What's wrong?"

I sigh. "It's just that you seem to like Laurel more than Gale does," I admit. "And you like Laurel a hell of a lot more than Amelia does."

"What do you mean?" Peeta asks.

"Gale doesn't love Laurel as much as I do," I say. "Or, honestly, as much as you do."

Peeta looks at me, surprised. "He's her father," he says at last. "He should love her. She's a beautiful, amazing girl."

"I know he _should_, but he doesn't," I say. "I mean, I don't know that. But he doesn't act like it."

"Why don't you fight for full custody?" he asks.

"Because she's his daughter, too," I say. "I can't take his daughter away from him."

"Technically, you can," Peeta says.

"But it wouldn't be right," I reply.

"It's not right that he doesn't love his daughter," Peeta says. "It's not right that he married a woman that doesn't even like his child."

"I know all that, Peeta," I say. "But it wouldn't be fair to Laurel if she didn't have a father. I know what that's like. I don't want her to go through that."

He looks down at the table, defeated. "She's such an amazing little girl," he says. "How does Gale not see it?"

"I don't know," I shrug. "But it pisses me off."

"Pisses me off, too," Peeta says. "I'd never be like that, you know. Doesn't matter who the mother is, I'd love my child more than anything."

I smile. I can only imagine how good of a father Peeta would be. Based on the way he is with Laurel, a child he barely knows. But I already knew that he'd be a good father – if I had any inkling of a doubt in my mind that the person I was dating wouldn't be a good stepfather to my baby, I wouldn't date him. That's another difference between Gale and I – I would never marry someone like Amelia.

"I know you wouldn't," I say.

Time passes quickly. Before I know it, it's November and I've been dating Peeta for over four months now. Amelia had given birth to Laurel's half-brother, Gale Junior, just two months ago. Laurel likes him well enough, but she rarely sees him nowadays. For the first couple of weeks after Gale Jr. was born, Laurel just stayed with me. It was supposed to be the first couple weeks, anyway. After two weeks, she spent a Saturday with Gale, Amelia, and the baby before Gale brought her home, saying the 'crying was irritating her.' Laurel told me that it really didn't bug her.

The next week, I'd gone over and tried to drop her off, but Amelia said, and I quote, to 'never bring that little son of a bitch back to her home again' and then slammed the door in my face. Gale came running out, trying to get me to let Laurel stay, but obviously I didn't let her. She hasn't stayed with Gale since. I've put my application for full custody in at the courthouse. Peeta has been very supportive of the entire situation. In fact, I had a hard time keeping him from beating the living crap out of Gale when I told him the story.

We spend almost every meal with Peeta. Laurel adores him – once, recently, she called him 'daddy' on accident. He didn't mind; it actually made him smile. And the thought of Laurel calling Peeta 'daddy' didn't frighten me as much as I thought it would've. It's now late November, almost a week from Thanksgiving. Peeta plans on celebrating the day with Laurel, Prim, my mother, and I. He says that his family doesn't do holidays together anymore, now that Dave and Mikal, his older brothers, have wives and his parents have moved to District 4. I caught a wild turkey the day before and Peeta was keeping it in the freezer of the bakery so we could eat it. It was going to be the first Thanksgiving that my family and I would actually have a feast.

"Hey, ladies!" Peeta calls when he walks in one night. He always comes over after he closes the bakery. Laurel runs to greet him at the door.

"Peeta!" she shouts. "Hi!"

"Hey, Laurel!" he says. "How are you?"

"I'm good," she says. "You?"

"I'm great," he says. He's holding her when they walk into the living room. "Hey, Katniss," he says. He sits down on the couch beside me and kisses me. "What're we watching?"

"The news," I say.

"Anything exciting happen today?"

"Does anything exciting ever happen?" I ask.

He laughs. "Touche."

"Mommy, can we eat?" Laurel asks. "I'm hungry."

"You could've eaten without me," Peeta says.

"That would've been rude," I say. "And anyway. You're cooking."

He laughs. "Is that how it is, then? I cook your meals? What do I get out of this?"

I raise my eyebrows at him and he laughs. Lately, we'd been getting much more . . . physical with each other. I'd seen him naked twice – once, on accident, and the second time, I'd actually helped him take the clothes off. The first time, I'd stayed over at his place while Laurel stayed with my mother and Prim. We'd shared the bed and I accidentally walked in on him in the bathroom. It was an honest mistake, but embarrassing nonetheless.

The second time, however, had been on our four month anniversary, just three weeks ago. Laurel had stayed at my mother and Prim's, and I'd stayed over at Peeta's. We both got caught in the moment and we ended up completing what they call 'oral sex.' And oddly, when I woke up the next morning, I didn't regret it. In fact, I was happy about it. It was my first sexual relation since I was seventeen. That was almost four years ago.

While Peeta's making dinner, Laurel draws Peeta and picture and I watch. My artistic skills are nothing to be desired, and Gale's aren't either. But Laurel's already better than me, at almost three years old. Peeta's worked with her a bit on her drawing – he's ridiculously talented. When she shows him, he gets very excited and promises to put it on his fridge. And I know he will – every time I'm over at his place, each picture Laurel's ever given him is on there.

Peeta and I do the dishes. I look out the window as I do them and I'm surprised to see that snow is falling at a ridiculous rate. Peeta notices, too. "Looks like I might be snowed in tonight," he says. "Mind if I stay?"

"If you _have _to," I tease and he rolls his eyes.

"I'll keep you warm," he says.

"Oh, shit," I say. "Thanks for reminding me."

"Um, you're welcome," he says. "Reminding you of what?"

"We have one space heater and it always goes in Laurel's room, but it takes forever to heat up," I tell him. "If I want it to be heated by the time she goes to bed, I'm going to have to start it now."

"Go," he says. "I'll finish these."

I set up the space heater and Peeta finishes the dishes. Laurel goes to bed not long after and Peeta and I are left alone. "She's so cool," Peeta mumbles as we're sitting on the couch. One of his arms is around my neck and the other is slung around my waist. My legs are intertwined with his and my head is resting on his chest.

"Yes, but if she walks in on us right now, she'll be scarred for life," I say. He laughs and pulls me closer.

"It's cold in here," he points out.

"It's slightly better in the bedroom," I say. "I'm sorry you're stuck here."

"You're sorry?" he asks incredulously. "I'm happy it snowed. I love it here."

I smile. "You're very sweet."

"Hey, Katniss?" he says. I turn my head to look at him. He looks me in the eyes for a moment before saying, "I love you."

I blush and smile. He hasn't said 'I love you' since he admitted his feelings for me when we first got together. "You don't have to say it back," he says. "I just need you to know that."

"Hey, Peeta?" I say. He raises his eyebrows. "I love you, too."


End file.
